


Demolition Lovers

by ShamelesslyPoetic



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: And he is also scared™, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Mess, Dukexiety - Freeform, Human AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, coffee shop AU, so am I cause I don’t know what the heck else to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24217096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShamelesslyPoetic/pseuds/ShamelesslyPoetic
Summary: Remus is honestly kinda scary, but also kinda cute.So in an attempt to defy all the toxic restrictions placed on him throughout his life, the ever anxious, perpetually terrified Virgil strides right up to this real life Disney villian and gets his number.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Comments: 7
Kudos: 93





	Demolition Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> Going for a bit of an underrated ship here but yeah.  
> The title is an MCR song cause a. awesome band, b. Virgil, c. I'm trash. Like Remus! 
> 
> Let it be known this has just been sitting in my docs for months and I just now found out how I want it to go whilst I was out here missing these two. I hope you enjoy!

A young man clad in black entered a coffee shop, hands shaking, the hoodie slung over his head keeping rain and eye contact alike away from him. Narrowing further in on a dark smudge across a wish-wash backdrop, the chinkling ring of a bell guided Virgil Subti into the nearest warm building as he managed to evade the downpour outside. Might as well have a cuppa coffee too. 

Finally safe, he allowed himself a sigh of relief, only for it to lodge back, strong enough it caused his lungs to spasm. Virgil had spent his whole life being afraid. So it was safe to say that when he met Remus’ eye across the crowded Starbucks that first time, jumping out of his skin waged itself a reasonable reaction against that murky stare. 

An undue overwhelming desire for his mother’s curry overtook him as he stepped further into the aromatics of coffee. He didn’t miss her, he didn’t miss wooden spoons on his face or an insistent screaming telling him who to be but he didn’t know what to do without her. Even after all these years. Anushka would tell him to look away, angle his eyes downwards, keep quiet and hide behind the long curtain of hair he’d long since gotten rid of. He couldn’t even call her ‘maan’ anymore. She wouldn’t have recognized him anyway and he was better for it. 

For once without thinking, Virgil strode right towards the lip-pierced, tattooed, skull-shirted mass of dark skin and even darker eyes behind the counter, line of sight falling to an abandoned coffee cup. “Is this someone’s order?”

Remus, as his name tag had supplied, gave a slow lazy grin like the Cheshire cat’s. Virgil could swear he saw hints of blood on those pointed teeth, glinting in the shop’s lights, promising threats. “Not if you’re the one who’s asking, emocake. I can whip another one right up.”

_Get up get up get up get up!_

Virgil ignored the mantra in his brain even as it sang on.

_Run away run away run away!_

As he busied himself with fixing a new coffee, Remus’ voice held the air with a rasp, high-pitched and grating to hear. “Come here often?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Virgil paused for effect, taking a sip of bitterly cold brew as he crossed his legs on the rolling chair. “That depends on if you come here often.”

Remus _cackled_ and it resounded in Virgil’s ribs, loud and unabashed, something oddly fascinating in the way it resembled a Disney villain’s laugh. Virgil smiled, another knot in his shoulders loosening. 

“I myself just recently moved from home.” He attempted a laugh in return, with great emphasis on his attempt. The wheezed whistle gurgling out of his chest bore no resemblance to that carefree sound. Then again, Virgil had never been carefree. “Long way away so you’ll be seeing me around plenty.”

“Where’s home?” 

Maybe with Remus, though, he could be. Though his words themselves were light they felt predatory, the way his voice muffled everything else to muted whispers demanding an answer where a refusal wasn’t permitted. Virgil wanted to give freely, make his own choice in this, no matter how bad it may be. No matter how much Anushka would disapprove. And so he did. “India, south of Raipur.”

That grin froze on Remus’ broad features. The narrow mysterious eyes, pointed nose and faint stubble shadowing over curling lips that resembled less a smile and more a snarl. Beautiful, in an odd sort of way. 

“Remus Martinez,” he drawled, extending his hand. A muted, inky red covered his nails and as Virgil reached out, he met paper dry skin, calloused enough to cut into his. 

“Virgil,” he said in a daze, blinking slowly at the light bronze pressed against his deep sepia, at how perfectly they fit. “Virgil Subti.”

Virgil left with a number sprawled across the palm of his hand in permanent ink that day, a messy chicken scratch script that dug with reckless abandon into his skin. A brand he would cherish for weeks to come. 

Remus gave Virgil everything he wanted. Whether nights spent drowning his pain in skin, in knife-sharp hips, teeth at his throat and nails digging across his back, or cuddles infused with sweet nothings whispered late into the night, sometimes harsh truths, other times pretty lies. All there, laid out before him in a maddening juxtaposition against everything Remus acted like to the outside world. Rude, blunt and abrasive, sincere and open just for Virgil in a way he’d only ever dreamed of. A carnage of common sense. 

Virgil knew this wasn’t well, entirely healthy. His dependence on the other gave him hours sick to his stomach and heart, eyes burning, head pounding, but they still pushed on. Together. Because, in his addled state of mind after their sweat had cooled, Virgil reminded himself of the striking resemblance between them, the understanding no one else could make sense of. The comfort two castaway souls found in each other’s company. 

Remus’ core, rotten and defective through and through, reeked a bit worse each day that passed. To everyone else, at least. Virgil always found him beautiful, beautiful like silvery scars and glimmering glass shards. 

Remus’ voice rang through their apartment every night long after what would be considered acceptable by anyone else’s standards. You could never shut him up. Virgil never wanted him to, but he still occasionally pulled that ever-babbling mouth to his mid sentence, if only to taste that sharp grin, if only to have Remus lick the coppery tang away from his boyfriend’s lip the moment after he bit into it. 

Maybe between the two of them and even in the face of society’s rejection, they could work something out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are of course immensely appreciated. I hope the words are treating you well whether you’re reading or writing them, drink water, k love ya!


End file.
